Crazy Crimes
I've only been to prison three
times... Don't worry, you're not reading something written by a master
criminal! To be more specific, I've spent three nights in three different jail
cells.
While at university in Stafford, my friend Andy and myself would often
go a wine bar in the high street at the end of the college day. However, we
didn't go there for the yuppie atmosphere; it was the bottles of Carlsberg
Special Brew that drew us to the place. This lager has a high alcohol
content, so after a few bottles each our tongues became looser and life got rosier. On one specific afternoon we
left the bar at 11pm, and Andy, who was living in the next city - Stoke-on-Trent, had
missed the last bus home. "Never mind!" I stated, "I'll give you
a lift*home". We
walked back to my flat and Andy squeezed into the passenger seat of my Mini.
Everything went fine until we left the M6 motorway which joined
the two towns. There was a police checkpoint and I was waved over and breathalysed. Andy, complaining
loudly, was left abandoned beside the road, while I was put in a police car and
taken to local station. After emptying my pockets, I spent a fitful night in
the police cells before being liberated the following day to drive back to
Stafford with a monstrous hangover. It was
the sixth of May 1982.
Just twenty days later I was
in the same bar with the same good friend, drinking the same wicked brew. This time, Andy managed to get himself home
ok, but, at around midnight, I decided that I wanted to pay a surprise visit to
a friend from school days. The only thing was that Helen was now living and
studying in Oxford, a city
about three hours drive away. No problem, my trusty Mini was parked behind the flat....
I was steaming*2 down the M6, in the opposite
direction this time, with the stereo cassette deck blaring out when disaster struck.
The cassette jammed in the deck. I started fiddling*3 about with it, then thought to
myself "This is dangerous, I shouldn't be driving and messing about with the cassette at
the same time."
Of course, driving without
music was unthinkable, so I pulled over to the hard shoulder to deal
with the tape. I'd just started dealing with the problem when I saw a police
car heading northbound on the
other side of the motorway. "No problem" I reasoned, "they're on
the other side of the motorway". It was a problem however, because a few
minutes later I heard someone tapping on the driver side window. When I looked
up to see what was going on, I came face to face with a police offer who had
managed to double back. I wound down the window, evaluated the
situation and said "Ok officer, it's a fair cop!". Half an hour
later I found myself in a distinct deja vu situation, but this time the police
cell was in the town of Droitwich,
to the south of Birmingham.
It was the 26th of May 1982.
Punishment doesn't always
accompany crime, but if you get caught it becomes very difficult to avoid. On
the 17th of July 1982 I was due in court to answer for the first offence. I had
a solicitor representing
me and she was able to transmit my plea that I hadn't
realised the seriousness of the crime when I was caught the second time... A
rather flimsy gambit I admit. I was fined £80 and banned from driving for 18 months.
In September of the same year I travelled to the south of France to work picking grapes. I got back to my flat at about 11pm on the 24th of November after having jumped trains across France, and hitchhiking from London to Stafford. I was completely exhausted. When I had just settled my rucksack on my bed and started thinking about having a long warm bath, my flat mate - Norm, put his head through the door to say "Viv, there's a rather official-looking letter for you which arrived by post." I opened it up to find a summons to court in Droitwich for the following morning at 9am. I'd completely forgotten about the second court appearance, and, as it turned out, was very lucky that I was actually in the country to face it. After a long soaking in a hot bath, I set my alarm clock and snuggled up in bed - the first bed I'd slept in for several days. The alarm clock took a while to do its job, but when my still sleepy eyes unstuck, I was faced with a problem. It was 8am.. How the hell was I going to get to Droitwich? It was too late to get a bus or train. "Oh my God!!!" The realisation seeped into consciousness... I'd have to drive there, and I'd been banned from driving a few months' previously! I hurriedly dressed, and accidentally put on my old blue jacket with a lapel badge saying in bold letters "VET JUDGES!" (it was a protest against jury vetting from the polytechnic students union). I parked a few blocks from the court, accepted the admonishment from the bench and was told that along with another £80 fine, I would be banned from driving for 21 months. Luckily, both bans were concurrent - this meant that I was now doubly banned from driving! When I left the courtroom it dawned on me that the only way to get home was to drive! I honestly didn't want to, but there was no other way - except abandoning my car in Droitwich. I took back roads to get back to Stafford - I was expecting to be stopped and hauled off to prison at any moment. Nevertheless, I arrived safe and sound and after that experience it took a while before I found the courage to get behind the wheel of the mini again. In fact, not too long after this I sold the mini and the temptation to drive it was removed.
* Noun - entry 11
*2 Verb - entry 3
*3 Verb - entry 4